Chapter 2
Misty's knees pumped gently as her hips did a little dance of joy. Still, she kept her eyes shielded in the hope that her brother Jerry would believe that she was merely in the midst of an erotic dream as he did his number on her willing body.
His mouth was open, directly over her pussy, and then he was worming through the hairs and kissing her damp lips, which were quivering like a set of nervous puppies. She felt his mouth on her, boring in. The mouth opened wider and his tongue came out. It lapped at her lips, rasping and making them tingle as though he were using a fine grade of sandpaper on her tender flesh.
She gasped and he paused, again looking up at her. She lay as still as she could, her golden hair fanned over the pillow, her hands up over her head now, so that she was totally exposed to him. He was free to do as he pleased. She shuddered as the tongue dipped directly into her hole and then began to swish about, milking her, filling the bedroom again with her musky scent.
Oh! God, but that felt good! His tongue was dipping deeply into her pussy now, worming around until it found her little knot of muscle, her erect button, the seat of all her passion. He strummed it gently, his tongue whipping back and forth over the little female penis, until it was standing up, alive with pleasure and anticipation. Misty felt the final surge in her body and a small cry of pleasure escaped her lips.
Then a great spasm whipped through her, wrenching her body as though by a physical blow. She jerked as the first wave of the orgasm rippled all the way down to her toes. She gasped and then rippled again as the next wave hit. She felt the walls of her pussy convulse as the interior muscles, driven by orders from her nervous system, tried to close around the pressing tongue, seeking to trap it and drag it deeply into her body. But it was only a tongue, after all. It was not six or eight inches long.
But it was a marvelous tongue,-so far as Misty was concerned. It did its job, milking spasm after spasm of ecstasy from her ripe young body. This had been her first orgasm at the hands (and face) of a man, the first one which she had not induced herself or enjoyed by simple accident. It was wonderful, and she again squealed as her writhing body was trapped by his raking tongue, which coaxed more orgasms from her.
In a few minutes she was spent and she fell back, her body damp and relaxing. She gasped for breath, her breasts heaving up and down. He placed his hands on them, feeling their great tension, their burgeoning size, the ripples of pleasure that seemed to be escaping her body through her nipples. She heard him chuckle.
"Misty, my girl," he murmured, "you're going to have a wonderful life. And you're going to make my life wonderful, too. We didn't really do much tonight, but I think we're going to get our kicks again; After all, you got your rocks off, but what about me?"
She might have been willing to show her appreciation, but he gave her a final pat on the breasts as he got up. She felt the bed move and, through hidden eyes, she saw him standing over her, smiling. "I'll see you around, kid," he murmured. And then he was gone.
He slipped from her room without another sound, the door closing behind him as her eyes popped wide open. She sat up, pulled the sheet up to her chin in a belated display of modesty.. She shook her golden head, wondering if she'd really only dreamed what had happened to her. No. it was true enough. She smiled, her teeth a white line in the darkness. It had been real, all right. The tingling of her crotch told her that. There was a spasm of jerking nerve ends still in her emit and she knew that they wanted more.
She fell back on the pillow and, as she tried to think, sleep overtook her. Her eyes were heavy. Then they closed, and Misty fell asleep with a smile bowing her lips.
She was dreaming that someone had opened a door to a bright world outside. It was her brother Jerry and he was looking into her room, with the sun behind his back. Her eyes popped open and she was disappointed to realize that it was only a dream.
The sun was streaming in the window and another summer day had begun in California. She sat up, stretching as she looked at the clock on her bedside table. Heavens, she'd slept for nine hours or more. She leaped from the bed, surprised that she felt no ache in her cunt. It was as though nothing had happened to her the night before. Again she had to remind herself that it hadn't been a dream. It had been real, all right.
She ran into her bathroom, leaped into the shower and let needles of warm water dance over her tanned flesh. Then she dried her body roughly with a huge towel. She brushed her teeth with vigor. Then she wiggled into a pair of tight jeans which hugged the cheeks of her ass like a pair of loving hands. She also slipped on a T-shirt, which was stretched tightly over her breasts. She went without bra and pants, in the fashion of the day. It was summer, it was warm. Why should anybody wear extra clothing?
She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair. She could see the outline of her nipples and the faint pink color through the T-shirt, but she didn't worry about that. She wasn't going to leave the house. If she went outside she'd slip into something less revealing. Soon her hair shone like new gold and she dropped the brush.
She hurried down the hall and down the stairs, into the kitchen. There her mother was at work, doing the dishes. Mrs. Sommer glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. Misty's mother was dressed up, as though she had someplace to go.
"Well, sleepyhead," the older woman said. "I was beginning to think you'd died up there."
"And gone to heaven," Misty giggled, kissing her mother on the cheek. "Where's Jerry?"
"Oh, he's eaten and gone out somewhere. I'm on my way, too. This is my day downtown with the girls. You can get your own breakfast and lunch. There's plenty of food around. If your brother is around, you can get his lunch, too."
Misty seemed to be walking on air as she poured herself juice, milk and a bowl of cereal. She sat at the kitchen table, glancing idly at the morning paper. But her thoughts were somewhere else. God, last night had been real. She could feel it in her pussy now. It still was excited where his tongue had raked across her tender flesh, making her lips swell with pleasure and desire. She ate slowly, until she realized her mother was standing over her.
"What's amusing you this morning?" Mrs. Sommer said, her hands on her hips.
"Nothing much," Misty replied, stifling a giggle. "I feel good, that's all. It's summer and everything's just hunky dory, you dig, Ma'am?"
The older woman sighed. "I can't dig you young people. But I suppose you'll be off to the beach again. You seem to live on sand these days. And you're going to wear out that bikini-not that there's much of it to wear out, anyway."
Misty asked, "Is dad gone?"
"Of course. He left for the office more than an hour ago. Somebody's got to be up with the birds and earning money to keep you children in shoes."
Misty didn't concern herself with money because she didn't have to. She knew her father could afford to buy all the shoes his children needed. He had a good job with a downtown investment office. He earned a good salary and he'd made some sound investments himself over the years. Nobody in the Sommer household would ever have to worry about paying the mortgage.
Which reminded Misty. She tilted her head at her mother. "When is he going to buy me a car? Everybody else in the neighborhood has one."
"When you really need a car," Mrs. Sommer said. "After school starts, perhaps, if you can't get a ride with anyone else and you decide you're too imagine to ride the bus."
Misty stuck out her lower lip. "It would be fun to have a car while school's still out," she said. "Jerry is too busy to let me use his. And he hardly ever gives me a ride." She thought about her night in bed. "But maybe I can get him to be my chauffeur once in a while. You know, we seem to be growing closer together."
Mrs. Sommer placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders, standing behind her chair. "I know. I can see the change in you both since he's come home from the Navy. When you're both in college you can go to school together. I'm glad that you're good friends. A brother needs a sister and vice versa, you know?"
Misty nodded, feeling very wise for a seventeen-year-old girl. "I know."
Her mother did a few more things and then she was gone, her Pontiac pulling out of the driveway and swishing down the street. Misty knew what her mother would do. She'd pick up a couple of girlfriends, they'd go downtown, shop the smart stores, have two drinks each with lunch, and then they'd all come home before their husbands arrived.
Misty finished her breakfast and then she did the dishes. As she hung up the towel she heard Jerry's car turn into the driveway. Her heart gave a little squeeze in her breast and she felt her breathing change. She stood in the kitchen, waiting for him to come in the back door.
He burst in, moving fast. He stopped when he saw her, and he smiled. He was dressed like his sister, in tight jeans and T-shirt. Her eyes flicked down to where she could see his cock and balls outlined against his fly. God, but he was hung. His tongue was nice, but it wasn't his prick.
"Hi," he exclaimed, leaning against the sink, his eyes roaming up and down her figure. "Did you get a good night's sleep?"
Misty flushed, but she tried to hide the truth. "Yes, why? That's a funny question."
Jerry laughed and then he reached for her, grasping her wrist and pulling her against him. As their crotches came together she felt his hardness. He was up, stiff, ready to go, she figured. Why not? She hadn't done anything the night before to relieve his need for sex.
"You're trying to tell me you don't remember last night?" he asked. "You really think I'm going to believe you were asleep?"
"Well, I did have some very real dreams," she replied, blushing more than ever. God, she was getting hot all over again. He was gently rubbing his crotch back and forth against her and she felt the stiff lump of cock thudding against her thighs.
"You bet your little twat you did," he laughed. He stared at her breasts. "You've got a pretty set of knockers, sis. Your nipples are as sweet as any I've ever tasted."
Misty stiffened. "Jerry. For heaven's sake!"
"You can knock off that little girl shit right now," he said. "You know what happened last night and so do I. You know you enjoyed it. I sure as hell did. But we didn't really finish, did we?"
She slowly shook her head as his hands came up to cup her face. Then his mouth came down on hers and he was kissing her hard, making the rockets in her head burst all over again, just as they had the night before. His mouth was open against hers and his tongue came out to lap at her lips. The tongue pushed hard until she opened her mouth.
Then it darted inside, swishing around as she caught her breath with surprise. "Jerry!" she blurted against his teeth.
"Shut up and drive," he said, his voice firm, but not unkind. He obviously Was sizzling, himself. "It's been a long time for me, sweet sister, too long. And it's high time you grew up."
Misty shut up, but she did not close her mouth. He wouldn't let her. His tongue lanced between her teeth, into her mouth. There it swished around, counting her teeth, moving from one side to the other. Tentatively, she touched it with the tip of her own tongue and the sensation was electric. God, she'd never realized her tongue was so sensitive.
They wrestled with one another for a few moments and, as she closed her eyes and allowed her tongue to move into his mouth, she lurched. His hands had let go of her shoulders and slid down the front of her T-shirt to fasten themselves on her breasts.
"Jerry!" she cried, breaking the kiss.
"You've got the best set I've ever seen," he muttered. "And I'm glad, you've grown up and thrown away your bra. Christ, but the outline of your nipples has been driving me out of my skull."
She gasped as his fingers closed over her mounds. He pressed into the flesh. A moment later he was jerking the T-shirt out of her jeans and pulling it up to her neck. Then they both looked down at her breasts. God, but they seemed so heavy, so laden with passion as they stiffened and stood up, awaiting his further attention. They didn't have to wait long.
His hands were on them again, the fingers sinking into the soft flesh and kneading it as though he were a baker massaging two large wads of bread dough. She closed her eyes as she sagged against the sink.
He caught her nipples between his fingers, pinching them enough to hurt her slightly but, much more important, the pinching turned on all the bells in her body. Her alarm system was going full blast, crying out, warning every fiber of her body that something important was going to happen.
Her eyes popped open as he leaned down to suck a nipple between his lips. She rested her hands on the top of his lowered head, her fingers twisting through his blond hair. He sucked in the nipple and nibbled on its oh-so-tender tip, just as he'd done in her bed the night before. He then sucked the other pink bud until it was as rigid as its twin.
As he sucked his hands went to her waist, pushing her back firmly against the edge of the sink, so that her body was bent backwards. Her crotch was thrust forward as the edge of the sink caught her in the middle of her ass. His fingers worked at the brass button of her jeans, getting it open. Then they heard the hiss of her zipper. All the while Jerry was sucking on her tits, driving Misty out of her mind.
"My God, Jerry you shouldn't...!"
He released her nipple and again his mouth covered her lips, silencing her with another deeply probing French kiss. She felt her body being bowed back over the sink as his hands grasped denim at her hips and jerked. Her jeans, tightly molded to her ripe body, yielded grudgingly, but down they came, over her hips and down to her thighs. He broke the kiss and stepped back, looking down into her crotch.
Misty looked, too, seeing her blond bush standing up straight. Already it was damp so that her golden hairs were shining with their fresh coating of musky oil. She looked into her brother's face.
"It's ready," he blurted. "How many times have you been fucked, little sister?"
She shook her head.
"Never? I don't believe it."
She nodded. "It's true. But you won't find a cherry in me. You see, I've used a candle the last several months. Anything to help me.. . "
"To help you avoid doing it naturally," he snapped. "Christ, what a waste. Candles ought to be illegal."
He ripped at her jeans until they plunged to her knees. Then he shoved them to her ankles so that he was able to grasp a foot and free it from her pants altogether. At last her body was free, the T-shirt up around her neck and the jeans hanging to a single ankle.
He pointed at his fly. "All right, do me, and make it snappy. Don't play games, Misty. You want it and you know you're gonna get it. I want it, too. You didn't do one damn thing for me last night, you know."
She nodded as her hands went to his waist. She found the tab on his zipper and, although her fingers were nervous and sweating, she managed to jerk at the zipper until it came down. The hiss of the metal seemed to fill the kitchen as he surged forward. He wore nothing under his jeans and a mass of pubic hair came forward, followed by his cock. The large tool, glowing pinkly, was caught in his fly, bent over so that he winced in pain.
"Get the button, for Christ's sake," he ordered.
Misty opened the brass button and his fly surged open. Out charged his prick, poking at her like a lance. Her eyes bugged as she stared at its bulk, its great length. The thing was easily seven or eight inches long and a couple of inches thick. The head was even larger and it glowed a deeper pink. A drop of fluid was oozing from its single eye as she stared at the tip.
"It...it's beautiful!" Misty exclaimed.
"You bet your sweet ass it's beautiful," he agreed. "Every pussy from Hong King to Naples has said the same thing. But it's been on ice for weeks. Let's see if it still works."
Misty gasped as he spread her knees. Then he was running his hands up her legs, to the insides of her thighs where her flesh was so white and so sensitive. She cried out and trembled as he came up to an inch from her pussy. He leaned against her so that she would not fall and, as he did so, his prick came up against her thigh. She felt its heat as though he were touching her with a branding iron.
He leaned his weight against her, his nose an inch from her face. "You're not afraid, are you?" he grunted, his face turning pink. Poor Jerry. He was so hot!
She shook her head violently. "No. Just show me how. Don't get angry with me."
He smiled for a second and then he was moving his hands against her snatch, leaning heavily against her ripe body so that again she was being bent back over the sink. Her hips jutted toward him and her pussy was in his hands like a box of jewels.
He ran his fingers through her damp bush, probing until he was between her lips. The rockets were bursting in her crotch again, exploding all the way up into her belly. She gasped and held her breath as he stuck a finger up into her hole. That was wonderful, but a finger wasn't the real thing.
"No, not your finger. I want itV Misty cried.
He snorted his approval. "Good girl. You're gonna get it, right now!"